


Last Wish

by Sounddrive



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen, Guardian-Ward Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:10:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sounddrive/pseuds/Sounddrive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-Series: Prime. The voice box that Ratchet 'slapped' into Bumblebee's throat held so much more sentimental value than anyone could've imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Promise

The klaxon alarm shrieked loudly that night. Ratchet remembered it as if it were yesterday.

There were scores of soldiers to fix up as they came in from the Battle of Tyger Pax. Many were dead as soon as they reached the doors of the med-bays. Ratchet couldn't remember how many he had to put into the morgue that night, but it sent a shudder down his back strut every time he recalled it.

One of his colleagues told the medic to take a short break. The orange and white mech was relieved to get away from the macabre in his station for a few moments.

Fate rarely called upon a moment if anyone's choosing.

As soon as Ratchet exited his med-bay, a stretcher hastily swept past him. What he saw in that gurney would forever seal his fate.

"Oh that poor youngling-"

"Is he going to make it?" Ratchet halted as two assistants sprinted past him.  _Dear Primus,_  he thought,  _a youngling?_

"Word is that he was interrogated by Megatron himself!" That shushed a great many.

"Get back you your stations! Scat!" Ratchet commanded. That sent his coworkers dashing. The medic immediately made a beeline to the holding room where they kept the youngling. He peeked through a small opening in the window.

Ratchet's optics widened at the severity of the mangled wires coming from the young mech's throat. The poor yellow and black soldier would never speak again.

"Ratchet?" The medic didn't hear her at first. He busily ran through the possibilities of how one could repair the damaged the bio-tech.

"Ratchet." The voice was more adamant now. He still didn't hear. No, nothing short of a matching donor would be able to fix the poor soul in that room.

"SIRE!"

The medic jumped at least three feet into the air. The old mech whipped around. He couldn't believe his optics. He rebooted them, and yet she was there.

"What are you doing here Rāśi?" Ratchet questioned, incredulous. She was supposed to be in a Special Ops meeting right now. His daughter was supposed to be anywhere  _but_ here.

Upon first look, no one could have guessed the two were related. But, they were family by an artificial spark bond. Ratchet had found her in the wreckage of a Neutral territory that was now underneath a Decepticon camp. No matter what he did, the femme followed him everywhere. Over time, Ratchet's paternal side flourished. The two remained close, even when they were on opposite sides of the planet.

The tone she used wasn't one of normal visitation. "I need to talk to you." Immediately, Ratchet guided her to a secluded hallway that no one used anymore.

"Were you in Tyger Pax?" Ratchet questioned. A quick once over revealed that Rāśi had no obvious wounds.

She avoided looking at him. Her EM field and her side of the bond were utterly terrified. "Then, what are you doing here?" Ratchet grunted. He crossed his servos over his chest and squinted at her.

"It's him." Ratchet stared at her. "The youngling you were looking in on. It's him. I guarantee you, Sire."

The medic's processors were about to crash, but he forced himself to stay online. He placed a hand on the wall nearby to steady himself.

"The sparkling you gave away?" he whispered. "You said you didn't have a good look at him!" Ratchet did everything in his power to slow his intakes.

"I didn't, but I know what his Sire looks like, Father," she exhaled. "The resemblance is uncanny."

"Rāśi, need I remind you I never got to meet the mech you sought after because he was  _killed_  two deca-cycles later?" She bowed her helm as he continued, "And then, you had the  _gall_  to tell me more than half past the duration of your carrying that you were sparked!"

Ratchet stopped himself from going any further. He could see the drops of lubricant welling up behind her optics. The medic sighed. "All right, I'll drop that topic. Why are you here?" he asked again. He uncrossed his arms and planted them on his hips.

"I just got out of a meeting of what's left of my squad," the femme explained. "We're going on a mission." She swallowed, hard.

It took just seconds for the orange and white mech to realize what she meant.

"Primus above, no." Ratchet grabbed her shoulders and shook her. For a mech his age, the strength he put into the action was astounding. The femme was akin to a rag doll in his servos. "Do you realize what you're going to put an old bot like me through?!"

Rāśi didn't falter. "It was put to a vote; I agreed to join them-"

"Are you trying to put me through anther spark break?! If what you're insinuating right now is true, I forbid it!" His voice was shrill.

Suddenly, the femme pushed her Sire off of her. She dug into a small panel on her side. Ratchet stared on in horror at what had been implanted into her.

 **Three**.

Three compact, round bags were neatly tucked into her derma-plating. They were wired together. The severity of the situation rang loud in Ratchet's mind.

"Mine is the least compared to the others," Rāśi explained stoically. She bowed her helm as she approached the mech that gave her a home, all those stellar cycles ago.

Ratchet let out a shaky exhale. "You do know what this will do to me?" Sadness and terror flooded into his voice.

The femme's tears finally spilled over. They two hugged each other tightly. Ratchet's servo found the back of Rāśi's helm as she cried onto his shoulder.  _I love you. I'll miss you. Be careful._  Their EM fields were full of static by then. Ratchet released her when he heard his name being called.

With his profession in mind, he managed to look neutral as one of his colleagues rushed at him. "They want you to do the surgery for the kid without his voice box," he panted. Ratchet nodded and murmured, "I'll be there."

Once the other medic was out of range, Rāśi requested a favor. He blinked. "Care to repeat that?"

"He'll need a voice-box, Sire," she explained. "I won't need mine anytime soon. And in the Well, I'm sure I'll be able to communicate anyway."

"I'm not exactly sure that will work," Ratchet stated. "You're a full grown femme and he's a youngling. Not to mention there isn't a hundred percent chance that you two are a match-"

"But I'm his Carrier," Rāśi retorted in a whisper. "Please, Sire . . . it's my last wish."

"There's more to it, I believe," the medic countered. "I have a good idea what it is."

"Would you?" Her voice was a desperate whisper.

Ratchet began to walk away, and with him her hope. Rāśi's spirits rose as he turned around.

"You coming or what?"

**O*O*O**

He decided to place Rāśi beside her son when he would do the operation. He didn't look up as she marveled, "Oh, he grew up so fast . . ."

"I am going to regret asking this," Ratchet admitted as he hooked up the anesthesia to both Bumblebee, which he learned was his name from the Autobots that brought him in, and his Carrier. "Any last words?" he asked. Before Rāśi sank under the influence of the anesthesia, the femme smiled.

"I know you'll take good care of him."

* * *

_The group of Special Ops trudged into the dark night. Neither of the moons shined, which was an oddity. What gave away their positions was their blue optics._

Ratchet was the first thing Bumblebee saw after the voice box was installed into him. The youngling attempted to speak. However, instead of his voice came the predicted beeps and electronic chirps.

_The mechs and femme rounded a corner. They were close to their target area. Rāśi stumbled and a silent swear exited her throat._

_"You ok?" asked a comrade. Rāśi nodded as she latched onto his offered arm. The squad continued on. They narrowly missed a Decepticon patrol._

"You were found with your voice box completely torn out," Ratchet explained. Bumblebee began to hyperventilate in terror. The medic went over to the scout and placed a reassuring servo over his helm.

"It'll be all right, young one. That voice box of yours, the one that an anonymous donor gave you," his voice shook a bit, "it's just temporary. It's just temporary," Ratchet promised.

_"Target in sight," captain signaled. Everyone's sparks hammered in their casings._

_"Say your prayers," he added. He cocked the cannon in his servos. With a war cry, the Special Ops team charged toward the base._

_Blaster cannons fired as swords swung out to sink into an enemy's body._

"Beep-beep . . . Buzz?" Bumblebee inquired. Ratchet had a good idea what he asked. "I promise it. Get to your recharge cycle. You've had a long day." Bumblebee's face-plates soon donned a small smile. Quickly, the scout was lulled into stasis.

_Rāśi activated the explosive pouches that were embedded in her. Straightaway, she sprinted to a large pool of energon near the center of the camp. Her teammates followed suit._

**Ten, nine, eight, seven-**

_The Carrier tripped, but she was picked up by the largest of her squad and thrown into the pool._

**Four, three, two-**

_"Goodbye."_

Ratchet's spark lurched in its casing. He grabbed the top of a nearby counter in order to halt his fall. The medic knew it that what he wanted to do was futile.

Nevertheless, the old mech probed the bond. It's a slap in the face-plates once he is met with static. The medic had barely managed to stagger into a corner in a remote area of the triage facility. There, Ratchet's whole frame shook as lubricant from his optics fell to the floor.

"I'll take care of him . . . I will. Even if it kills me in the process," Ratchet vowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OK! I was inspired by several episodes in the making of this little one-shot. For the earlier episodes, it took several times watching them for me to finally notice it.
> 
> First it was in Scrapheap: Ratchet pushed Bumblebee down when he tried to get up as a swarm of Scraplets chased after Bulkhead. Then, in Orion Pax Part 2, I believe, was when Megatron threw off Bumblebee when the scout charged at him. As the Decepticon Warlord takes out his sword and stalks to Bee, Ratchet rams into him to attempt to distract him.
> 
> Later, OPERATION: Bumblebee happened. Ratchet said Bee's voice-box was a bio-mechanical part. That got me thinking into a donor sort of thing. In order for the transplant to happen for the patient, you'd need the same part with a matching code or something/other.
> 
> Then came the line when Smokescreen said, "The voice-box that Ratchet slapped into your throat". OK, that somewhat put me out as well, but it still got me thinking . . .
> 
> And then Deadlock happened and I was soon outlining this little thing.
> 
> (Wow that is one long list. O.o I might not have gotten them all but this was what I saw in TFP).
> 
> Rāśi means "star" in a language . . . I forgot what it was after I googled it . . .
> 
> R&R please! :D


	2. The Truth

The medic had expected the scout to be back in the main hanger a while ago. Perplexed, Ratchet went outside of Hanger E and looked in some of the other hangers.

Bumblebee had decided to drop by for a visit. Reconstruction on Cybertron had been going well, according to the youngling. Rafael was ecstatic when the black and yellow mech came through the Space Bridge. With Miko and Jack on a school field trip, it just them and Ratchet.

But now, Ratchet wasn't so sure where the youngest pair of Team Prime was. The medic had poked through hangers A to F . . . and that left . . .

"Bee, should we  _really_  be doing this?" Ratchet paused outside of Hanger G.

"Look, I need to know . . . it's not like we're going to hurt anyone with it," Bumblebee responded quietly. Ratchet raised and optic ridge. It would take time to get used to Bumblebee's voice.

Rāśi would have loved to hear her son talk. Why the medic never told Bumblebee of their connection, the medic didn't know . . . precisely.

Suddenly, the CMO could hear a data pad being turned on. Wait a moment. He glanced up at the letter painted on the front.

Hanger G was-

Ratchet apologized once he burst through the doors. "I didn't mean to give you two a fright," he said. "I was just looking for you two." Bumblebee and Raf's eyes/optics were wide in surprise.

Ratchet's gaze soon landed upon the data pad in Bumblebee's servos. It was bound in a hard plastic covering. The scout's face became flushed; he had been caught red handed.

"What do you have there?" Ratchet inquired nonchalantly.

"Um, uh-" the pair before him glanced at one another. Bumblebee sighed as he stood up. He transferred his charge from his shoulder to the floor. The human looked up at his guardian and then to Ratchet. "We didn't do anything bad to it-"

"Eh-dep dep!" Ratchet stopped him. "I just need to talk to Bumblebee is all." He thought for a moment and added, "Your laptop is in Hanger E; you can bring it in here if you want." The young human dashed off to so.

Ratchet turned to Bumblebee. His gaze softened a bit as Bumblebee murmured, "I always wondered why . . . this particular data pad had that femme in it."

The scout passed the data pad back to the red and white.

"When did you first see this?" Ratchet asked. Bumblebee shuffled his pedes. "Come now youngling, I'm not going to court martial you or anything of the like."

"In the old base," the scout finally confessed. "You asked me one time to get something from your quarters. The data pad was left on, and it projected the image."

Ratchet put in his pass code. He put up the aforementioned holo-scan. The outline of the femme became apparent.

"How come you didn't bring this up with me before?" Ratchet inquired. Bumblebee looked at the image that floated above the data pad.

"I didn't know what to think," he answered. "It was one of your things so I left it alone."

"But when Megatron . . ." Bumblebee shuddered as if a draft had come in. Ratchet jerked at the memory of the blasts of Megatron's famous cannon that tore into Bumblebee. He vigorously shook his helm as if to shake off the memory.

"I saw her," Bumblebee gestured to the holo-scan, "when I hit the Cyber Matter. It was like I crashed through glass. She was the one that caught me as I fell."

Bumblebee looked at Ratchet. The medic's expression was unreadable, but the scout continued. "She told me in my head to pass you a message, but before I tell you it, I need to know something."

"Go ahead," the medic permitted. For a while the only sound they could hear was of the soldiers running exercises outside and the sound of their internal systems.

"Who is she?" Bumblebee finally asked. Promptly, Ratchet took a seat onto the floor. The youngling followed suit, crossing his legs. "Really Ratchet, who is she?"

"Her name was Rāśi ," Ratchet started. "I found her in the ruins of a Neutral Camp. That camp would soon become one of the main depots for the Decepticon army. Over time, no matter how much I pushed her away, I took her in." The medic glanced at the scout. The youngling leaned in close with interest.

"You adopted her," Bumblebee summed up. Ratchet nodded.

"She was a few vorns into her adult frame when she met a mech. I never got to meet him since he was killed from a Decepticon ambush several deca-cycles later. But several orbital cycles after that . . . I found out she was more than half way through her Carrying cycle."

Bumblebee took in a deep breath.

"I wasn't the one that helped her transfer the spark to the protoform. I was in the other side of the planet then," Ratchet cleared his throat and looked to the scout. The youngling's optics were wide and his door-wings jutted up, shocked.

"Do you mean . . .?" Bumblebee looked at Ratchet, the holo-scan of Rāśi, back to the medic, and then to the femme's image. Ratchet nodded.

"I met you after the Battle of Tyger Pax," Bumblebee quickly changed the subject. He thought for a moment and asked, "How did you find a donor for my voice box? I should have gotten an infection during the time it usually-"

"Your Carrier," Ratchet held back a chuckle as Bumblebee's door-wings wiggled with interest, "was the one that gave your current voice box."

"But, she offlined . . . didn't she?" Bumblebee's voice was soft. His appendages slowed in their movement.

"Special Ops assignment she volunteered in. She told me to give her voice box to you, as . . . as her last request," Ratchet quickly moved to wipe away a tear that dared to come to light.

Ratchet soon felt Bumblebee's arms around him. The medic let out a small laugh and patted the back of the scout's helm.

"She'd be so proud of you youngling," the elder mech smiled. Bumblebee nuzzled the side of Ratchet's face-plates.

"All right, that's enough," the red and white lightly pushed off the black and yellow scout.

"What was the message that she wanted you to pass on?" Ratchet inquired. Bumblebee blinked. He thought on it for several moments before he snapped his fingers.

"She said,  _'I knew you could do it'_."

Ratchet felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders. "So . . ." Bumblebee timidly played with his digits. "What do I call you then, considering . . . how things turned out?"

"Quite frankly you can call me anything," Ratchet answered. He thought for a moment and quickly amended, "Anything  _but_  a swear word or the infernal nicknames Wheeljack have used to call me."

In the end, neither of them knew which one laughed the most.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this two-shot of mine. R&R please! :)


End file.
